One Last Drink
by SWtRLF
Summary: Follow up to "Absolving the Past". Months have passed since McCree let Sombra walk away. Unfortunately, the ghost of a woman has kept herself hidden from everyone, including McCree. That is, until a certain job comes up that requires an old gunslinger's particular set of skills. Please enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

"You know she won't be easy to find, right?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Are you listening to me Jesse? How long has it been now?"

"Iunno, like a fe-"

"It's been months Jesse. Please, just move on. It's not healthy clinging to ghosts."

"...yeah."

* * *

The conversation echoed through McCree's head as he chased his whiskey with another shot of the stuff, the sting helping him forget the pain and woes that he did his best not to show. This spot had slowly become his second home, the bar stool close to being form fitted to his ass from how often he was found in it. The same place the two of them had first met, he thought she would find it fitting. Another shot slid down his throat as the bartender looked him over.

"Same old with you too, eh buddy?"

McCree barely nodded, not entirely in the mood to make conversation. He merely tapped his glass with his non-metallic hand, eyes hanging low as the liquor was once again filled to the brim. He tipped his hat slightly before grabbing the glass and taking the shot like the others. The concerned look on Angela's face flashed in his mind once more, her worried voice ringing in his ears like a mother scolding her son.

"Dammit..." he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"You say something?" The bartender turned to the man, not having many other patrons to tend to. Plus for how little he had spoken over the past few months, the scruffy man was one of the bar's best customers.

McCree swallowed, throat not used to working without alcohol sliding down it at the same time. He looked over the shot glass before bringing his head up enough to finally face the bartender.

"Nah, just muttering to myself..."

The bartender nodded, wanting to pry a bit since this interaction was more than the man had said apart from "whiskey" when he first came in. He had been curious about the man for some time now, remembering the first time he saw the cowboy. He and some lady friend had caused quite a bit of ruckus a couple months back and while the bartender had had to pay for a few repairs and a replacement bottle of one top shelf liquor, the duo had honestly helped him in the long run. After they had handled the goons that had come in, few others had shown their faces around the bar save for those who had been drug into the life and were there to drown themselves and air their problems.

"Well, you need to talk, I'm not going anywhere."

The bar fell back into it's usual ambiance, the overhead fan whirring and doing little to actually help the dry heat that permeated the air. McCree slowed his drinking rate, his hand starting to loosen it's grip along the glass as the liquor worked it's way through his body. Soft mutterings and small talk filled his ears as the other inhabitants of the bar took to their liquor and enjoyed themselves.

McCree slowly turned his head and allowed one of his eyes to look over the people that he shared the small place with. A few solo drinkers like himself, a couple here and there and a large man who was staring directly back at him intensely. McCree stared at the man for a few seconds, taking in all of his features as best he could in his inebriated state. His shooting hand began to get twitchy though was put to rest as the man broke eye contact to get up and leave a few seconds into their shared look. McCree would have followed the man had he not been close to a dozen shots in, his legs barely able to keep themselves on the lower rung of the stool at this point.

"You know that guy?" The bartender's voice broke McCree's focus, his head swiveling back to face forward.

"Nah, never seen him before..."

"Well he's been popping in time to time. Don't know much about him but I'd keep your eyes open on your way home tonight my friend."

McCree nodded at the advice, swallowing hard as he was became sober thanks to the adrenaline from the stare down. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself once more before raising his head and giving in to the bartender's obvious need for small talk.

"How long you been here, serving drinks at this place?"

The bartender chuckled as he came over to face McCree, wiping down the bar a bit before filling the man's glass once more.

"If you're wondering about your lady friend that was with you all those months ago, I'm afraid I haven't seen her since that night. I've heard some rumors about ghosts and spooks running around the town at night from a few of the drunken lowlifes but I'd take those with a grain of salt my friend."

McCree knew it would have been too easy to find Sombra like this. She had been dodging him for this long, there was no way that she would slip up and revisit a place like this. She was too smart for that sort of mess up. He pulled out the small little beacon that she had given him, her last words to him stinging more than the drink he had been consuming. He had so many questions and no way of getting answers, the beacon never bringing anything up no matter how many times he checked it. He sighed and put the thing away, grabbing his glass once more.

The next shot reopened the burning along his throat, McCree letting out a hot sigh before putting the glass down. He put his money down on the bar and slowly stood up, his legs wobbling ever so slightly but finally getting their senses back to at least let him stand on his own.

"Thanks for the drinks."

"Any time, vaquero."

McCree clenched his jaw at the word, Sombra's face burning into the back of his eyes as it rolled through his ears. He turned and made his way out into the night, moonlight showering over his form. Looking both ways down the dusty street, he tried to remember where his room for the evening was.

His focus was shifted as he felt eyes on the back of his head. He wasn't sure if he was going the right way but he began to walk down the street, thinking that perhaps it was just a coincidence. The feeling stayed strong though, every step making him feel as though he was under a microscope. Thankfully the poncho he wore covered up his holster and the gun held inside, that six shooter loaded as his forearm rested along the grip of it. Even in his inebriated state he would surely be able to get off a few rounds at any attackers, should they be so brave.

McCree slowly made his way down the street, keeping up the slight wobble in his walk even as the effects of the liquor began to wear off. If the owner of these eyes got cocky then he would stand a better chance in the event of a sneak attack. Apart from a few scurrying animals that would make him flinch ever so slightly, the man was left alone for the duration of his walk down the empty road. Thankfully his walk was in the right direction as he soon found his motel. Passing the entrance guard with a slight wave, McCree got a stare and scowl in return. He wasn't sure if this was the best situation, though with each step closer to his door he found himself growing calmer. The safety of his room helping to put his mind at ease and the feeling of eyes starting to slip off his back.

Reaching his door, McCree fumbled with the key for a few seconds before finally making it inside with a bit of a stumble. Making sure to lock the door behind him, McCree removed his hat and boots and sat them off to the side of the bed. His heavy lidded eyes fought off sleep for a few more seconds as he removed his shirt and threw it to the floor. Under the nightstand stood a bottle of whiskey, the painful thoughts starting to creep up again as McCree poured himself a goodnight drink and downed a few sleeping pills with the sting along his throat.

'You really shouldn't mix that you know...'

That worrying nag of Angela's voice filled his mind as he laid on the bed, eyes shut tight in hopes that the next day would come soon enough. He felt himself slipping deeper and deeper, the soft sounds of the outside world fading out.

"You're not going to sleep yet, are you vaquero?"

A warmth pressed against his side, the sweet scent that he had been searching for filling his nose and making his body a large pile of jello. He couldn't open his eyes, but he could see her. Her bare form pressing against his, the soft and supple skin shimmering in the moonlight as those large eyes looked him over. He could see her playful pout, those luscious lips begging to be kissed and reassured that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to hold her, to press against her skin and keep her for himself.

He wanted to speak to her, to tell her how much he missed her in hopes that maybe she would stay. Yet his mind was foggy, unable to form thoughts other than those focused on her at this moment.

"I've missed you vaquero. I know you missed me too..."

Her hand rolled down his shirtless body, rubbing along his crotch and squeezing softly as he felt her hot breath against his ear.

"Open your eyes love, I want you to see me..."

McCree shot up from his bed, sweat pouring from every inch of his body as he shot his look around wildly. The room was empty, save for himself and his few articles of clothing. His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm down, his head soon in his hands and wiping off the sweat that stung at his eyes.

That's when he heard a noise at his door. A soft scratching around the lock, a few mumbles from different pitched voices.

Adrenaline pumping, McCree quickly rose form his bed and pinned himself behind where the door would open, gun drawn and metallic fist clenched.

"C'mon you son of a bitch.. give me a reason..." He muttered to himself softly as he watched his door unlock from the outside. The handle was pulled down slowly, the door cracking and opening with the softest of groans. McCree held his breath, seeing the shadow of his attacker rise from their knees and slowly take a step inside. His revolver held steady in his hand, finger on the trigger as he waited to see the enemy for himself.

As soon as he saw the back of the bastard's head, he kicked the door shut forcefully. The trespasser jerked around and began to raise their gun, McCree being quicker with his metal fist. The sound of jaw cracking was followed up by a large thud as the man dropped to the floor at McCree's feet. Standing over the downed enemy, McCree took aim, his revolver's iron sights perfectly aligned with the back of the man's head.

"You've got about ten seconds to tell me why the fuck you're here." McCree was blunt as the man turned his head and stared down the barrel of the gun that would now choose his fate. The soft creaking of the door once more had McCree spun around and aiming that gun at the second assailant.

"Wha... you... but..."

His body soon grew weak, his aim faltering as he felt his knees growing weaker by the second. Before he could control himself, McCree was back on the bed, sprawled out and breathing hard as he tried to keep his eyes open. He could hear his heart beating in his ears as his eyes finally shut down. Before he passed out, he felt something hot press against his forehead and a faint voice slip through his mind.

"Sleep tight, vaquero."


	2. Chapter 2

"You two really should take better care of yourselves. If you're trying to impress me with scars, stop."

The blonde medic scowled as she applied the last set of bandages to Jesse, the proud cowboy scoffing at the notion that they were out to impress her. While this might have been true to some degree, he and Genji had been told to keep their work secret from anyone who wasn't Gabriel, Ana or Jack. Thankfully Angela didn't ask too many questions, being too focused on keeping their insides from being on the outside.

"Heh, don't worry so much doc. I'll make sure to take good care of your little project here."

Genji's blood red eyes quickly latched onto McCree's face, the intent to kill him strong in the air. Had his legs not been damaged, the two would surely have gotten into it. A swift smack to the back of the head was instead dished out, Angela squinting at the cocky rogue.

"One of these days that mouth is going to get you killed Jesse. I'd advise you keep it shut when possible."

McCree rubbed the back of his head with a stupid smile on his face, the doctor not knowing just how much he had wished for his mouth to do just that sometimes. He swallowed and slid off the hospital bed, stretching just enough to feel the pain of his ribs before doubling back over.

"Nngh, I'll keep that in mind doc. For now, I like to think I can back up my words pretty well."

He slid on his shirt and slowly adjusted his hat back onto the top of his head before tipping it and making his way out of the medical center. As he left he could hear Angela consoling Genji, the man saying little in return. Rolling his eyes, McCree made his way through the watch point, the breeze of the ocean slowly rolling though the area and carrying the smell of salt with it. The place was bustling as it usually ways these days, the crisis keeping Overwatch busy day and night. He made his way through a few of the buildings, before finally ending up back at his bunk. Inside sat his pistol and holster, along with another bottle of whiskey with a simple 'good job' note stuck to it.

"Damn, here I thought I'd be able to stay sober at least a day..."

Cracking open the bottle and pouring himself a glass, McCree looked out his window and sipped. Even here, among people and drinking, he felt out of place. He had given up the life of a gang member on the streets for the life of a government controlled gang member. Gabriel had mentioned freedom and having his life for himself but what sort of life was this? He was just another pawn in someone else's game, and no amount of drink could make him forget that. Perhaps though, if he lived through this war they were waging against the Omnics, he could get away from all this. Just settle down on a big plot of land and live out his days rocking on his front porch. Meet a woman, have a kid, who knows. He chuckled at his own stupid thoughts, finishing the drink before hearing a knock at his door.

"C'mon in, I'm decent."

Turning to face the doorway, McCree smirked as Gabriel stood and stared over him with those cold eyes.

"Let me guess, I can sleep on the ship?"

Gabriel gave a simple nod, starting to head out already.

"Hey, Gabe..."

The man stopped, turning his head just enough to give Jesse a small side glance.

"Do you plan on me getting out of this contract alive?"

Gabriel turned to stare at the young man, his face void of emotion before he flatly spoke.

"That's your job, not mine."

McCree clenched his jaw, one of his hands balling into a fist as the two of them stared each other down.

"The ship is already waiting, I'm going to get Genji and we'll be leaving after that."

McCree felt the urge to deck Gabriel growing, his face starting to look hollow and warped.

"You sure you don't need to see _her_ first?"

Gabriel gritted his teeth before stepping inside McCree's room, the two of them now face to face.

"Last time I remembered, I was your superior. You're not to ask questions. You're to do what I say."

McCree never flinched, his heart racing as he stared into those dark eyes of Gabriel and saw nothing in them but hatred.

"Whatever you say... comman... I mean, sir."

Their stare down was broken as Gabriel wound back, his fist coming to meet McCree's jaw.

* * *

McCree shot up in his bed, sweat once more pouring from every inch of his body as he looked around to find his arm stuck with an IV, a small bag of fluids dripping and a small heart monitor on the nightstand, frantically beeping. His eyes took a few seconds to adjust, before he realized that he was surrounded by people, the moonlight and makeshift electronics glowing over their forms.

He shakily went to reach for his revolver, knowing he could get all of them, though his wrist was stopped after moving only an inch or two. Looking down at it, he found himself tied to the bed. The rope was already starting to dig into his wrists, the frantic struggling causing a burn to form already. After about a minute of futile writhing and jerking his arms around, McCree laid back on the bed and panted loudly. The beeping of the machine was agitating, showing the mixture of adrenaline and fear and seeming to highlight it as the man tried to cope with his current situation.

His eyes shot around the room once more, the figures all seeming familiar but only one he knew right away.

"God dammit Gabe, how many times do I have to ditch you before you realize I ain't interested in ya?"

An angry growl came from one of the shadows before it stepped forward and let McCree see that his assumption was correct. That bone white skull mask came into clear view, the dark holes hiding two equally dark and menacing eyes that were now drilling into McCree's head.

Before Gabriel could retort however, his shoulder was grabbed by another one of the shadows. The presence seemed to restrain Gabriel, his tense stance softening up a bit before he stepped away from the end of the bed. McCree saw this and let that mouth do what it did best.

"Once a guard dog, always a guard dog, eh Gabie?"

Seeing the man's fist clench tightly simply made McCree chuckle, before his eyes rested on the second shadow now.

"If you can control Gabe like that, I guess that makes you the leader of these ragtag pieces of shit? If you wouldn't mind stepping a bit more into the light so we could be on equal playing fields, that would be just lovely."

The tall shadow came forward and the first thing that drew McCree's eyes was the massive piece of metal that was adorning his arm. There was only one person who this could be, but the last time he had heard of such a person, Winston wouldn't shut up about his being able to put the man behind bars.

"I think you know who I am, Jesse. So glad we could finally meet though, Gabriel has mentioned you quite a bit."

"Doomfist..."

The tall, dark man chuckled before stepping closer and sitting on the end of the bed and looking out the window.

"What I am sure you are wondering though is why we 'little pieces of shit' as you put it, are here."

"You looking for tips on how to beat a giant monkey? Cuz uh, I'm all outta bananas."

Doomfist laughed heartily, that gauntlet clad arm reaching around and grabbing McCree's shin before tightening it's grip with bone crushing force. An unheard cry left McCree's mouth agape. Whatever drugs they were pumping into him were enough to numb the touch, but the pain from the force was blasting it's way through even the numbness.

"No no Jesse, something much more related to you as it turns out."

Doomfist slid a small circular piece of equipment towards the man, an image of Sombra quickly popping up out of it. She looked as though she had been beaten, blood running down her face while a hand gripped her hair and held her up to the camera, the owner of it unseen.

McCree felt his body grow hot at the image, once again thrashing against his restraints and gritting his teeth.

"THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HER?! So help me I'll fucking put a bullet in every one of your brains!"

Doomfist did not smile or chuckle at this threat, his face serious as he turned back towards McCree.

"Do you truly think me so disturbed that I would do such a thing to one of my own operatives?"

"Isn't your whole shtick that 'we evolve through conflict'?" The last bit a mimicry of the man's accent.

Doomfist narrowed his eyes, his grip on McCree's leg tightening to the point that he could nearly feel the blood's inability to pump through the crushing grip.

"This is not conflict. This is torture. One sided."

McCree's leg was freed from the death grip, his foot wiggling just a bit to make sure it was still able to.

"So why me? In case you didn't already fucking know, we haven't made contact in months now. You probably seen her more than I have..."

Gabriel growled out in response to this.

"You're the whole reason she went missing in the first place. We knew she was coming to see you, we figured that maybe you'd finally snapped. I mean, look at how you've reacted so far. Would it be a stretch t-"

McCree shot his gaze to that white mask, seeing Gabriel's face behind it as his mind flashed back to the nightmare he had been woken from just minutes before.

"You think I'd ever do that to a woman, you sack of shit? Believe it or not, some of us have morals."

The two stared each other down, the tension threatening to choke someone until a sharp voice cut it like a knife.

"You two really are the exact same as back then, aren't you?"

McCree's eyes widened, the voice making him freeze. His head turned towards the last shadow, mind racing as it pieced together what had happened between the break in and now. He had heard that voice before he passed out. But... hadn't it been Sombra's? McCree grit his teeth as his slight fear was shown and preyed upon by the shadow.

"Come now Jesse, don't look so scared. Surely you remember all the fun times we had together?"

The figure stepped forward slowly, bright red hair and pale, lanky form coming into view as a wide smile covered the woman's face. She stood on the opposite side of the bed as Doomfist, right next to the machines that were keeping McCree drugged up.

"No witty remark for me Jesse? Why, I don't know if I should mope from you using all your best lines... or be ecstatic that I finally got you to shut up."

McCree just swallowed again, roughly this time as his eyes finally pried away from Moira to stare at the other two in his room.

"Whatever you're wanting out of me... it doesn't happen if you let her touch me."

Moira smirked wickedly before leaning over the bed ever so slightly. Her right hand stretched out just a tad, McCree seeing the black nails and wretched looking skin creep closer to his face as sweat dripped onto his chest.

Doomfist waved Moira away, the woman sighing as if disappointed that her play time was being postponed. Both of them removed themselves from the bed, walking back around as Doomfist went to the center of McCree's view. He put his arms behind his back and nodded.

"Now then cowboy, your mission is to find Sombra. We aren't Overwatch, we don't care how you do it. Just know that any attempt to contact anyone other than us will lead to... complications for you."

McCree slowly began to regain his normal breathing, hanging his head a bit and staring at that image of Sombra that was still in front of him. He couldn't look away from her eyes, the beautiful things seeming to plead with him as her voice rang in his head.

Swallowing hard, he looked back up slowly and grit his teeth before answering.

"Where do I start?"


	3. Chapter 3

A winning smile came over Doomfist's lips as he pulled a small remote from one of his pockets. Pressing the button, the cuffs quickly released their grip that had been restraining McCree until now. The cowboy fell forward just a bit before sitting back up and rubbing over his now bright red wrists. His jaw remained clenched as he looked over the tall man at the end of the bed, the medical equipment being pulled out in ways that probably weren't the best. The machine went silent as it lost the signal, the room growing somehow even more tense than it had been beforehand. Thankfully this was cut by a manilla folder being thrown onto the bed in front of McCree's feet.

"This is all the information we have leading up to Sombra disappearing. We've followed up on leads but haven't found any new information the past few weeks. You can thank me later."

Doomfist waved for Gabriel, the skull faced man throwing a duffel bag onto the bed beside the folder. The flap wasn't zipped and what was inside brought a slight groan from McCree.

"Seriously?" He looked up to the two of them, their faces saying that he didn't have much choice. Sighing, McCree pulled himself off the bed and took the duffel bag into hand, dragging it along as he slipped into the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.

The dark duffel was like a blast to the past and not in the good way. Pulling the flap open, he began to throw the equipment out along the cold tile floor. The pure black and form fitting outfit looked like it had just been pulled out a Blackwatch vault, though McCree knew that no such thing existed. He was wishing he had kept that damn motorcycle right about now as the window beside him looked awful inviting for an escape. His mind wandered slightly as he thought about getting away from this place and finding Sombra on his own. He pictured them on a beach somewhere, curled up lazily under the setting sun with not a care in the world. Just them, the ocean and all the drinks they could handle. A small smile threatened to break his currently grumpy mood, a loud banging at the door keeping it from happening.

"You forget how to put on clothes boy? Hurry up." The dark growl had McCree rolling his eyes in a way that felt far too normal in reaction to Gabriel. Slipping into the suit they had provided, McCree knelt and reached for the last piece of the outfit. A sleek revolver waited for him, the metal and finish showing that it was rather new. He flung the cylinder to one side, the small holes for bullets empty but looking smooth as a babies bottom. He shook his head a bit before slamming the cylinder back into place and holstering the weapon. It felt strange, the weight all wrong compared to his trusty piece.

Pushing the door open, McCree walked out to the sight of three pairs of eyes now on him. He turned to one side and looked down at the sleek pair of pants before looking between the onlookers with a smirk.

"Well, does it make my butt look big?"

Unsurprisingly, he got no real reaction from any of them apart from stares. Moira and Doomfist made their way to the door of the place, the male turning back to face Gabriel and McCree though he addressed Gabriel solely, his tone much more commanding and upfront than before.

"You know what this means to us, do not let me down again Gabriel."

The skull faced man merely stood there, giving no response though McCree could tell from the tension in the room that things were mighty uncomfortable between the two of them. The door opened and closed, leaving the two former teammates alone with each other in silence. Getting a bit twitchy, McCree made his way past the solemn man to grab a cigar from the nightstand beside his bed, cutting one end with his personal knife before flicking open a lighter and setting the tip ablaze. The lighter closed with a sharp snapping of metal, McCree taking a few quick puffs before turning around with the large cigar hanging from his mouth. Before he could say anything, Gabriel was at the door and throwing it open.

"You know that shit will kill you, right?"

McCree merely grinned before letting a billow of smoke escape his lips.

"Alright Angela."

Gabriel growled before slipping out the door, leaving McCree to chuckle on his own. He gathered the bullets from his night stand, along with the rest of that final bottle of liquor as he knew he'd need it for the traveling. He felt bad leaving the place a bit messy, the strange cuffs probably going to give the morning cleaner the wrong idea. The last thing he made sure to grab was the small thing that had been the last item Sombra had given him, a small flicker of hope remaining that it would actually lead them to her.

Slipping the thing into a pocket, his eyes picked up a small glint of something else within the drawer. A small phone, looking old as dirt in design thanks to the fact that it physically folded in half. Picking up the relic, McCree searched it over before his thumb flipped it open to be met with just a blank screen. His thumb pressed over the buttons, the physical feel of them matching the look of the item, worn in and barely able to be read. He jumped as the thing lit up and began to beep at him to a rather silly tune, one he could place but didn't know the name of. His mind wandered as he began to fit a person to the name, though the caller ID that popped up seemed to have read his mind:

Sombra.

His pulse raced, eyes looking out the window quickly to find Gabriel looking around and then back towards the small room, his foot tapping angrily. Swallowing hard, McCree pressed the small green phone symbol and pressed the speaker to his ear, his breathing harsh into the receiver before he finally mustered the courage to speak.

"Hello?"

"Don't... Gabriel... help..."

The words he could make out were heavily rough to his ear, the rest filled with interference that he would blame on the old nature of the phone. McCree felt his jaw tighten as he tried to respond to the nonsense, hoping the signal would clear up.

"Sombra please, I need to find you. Just tell me where you are. Give me something..."

"Can't do... Vaquero... hunted... tracking... spi..."

The call was lost suddenly, McCree pulling the phone from his ear and trying to dial the number that called him back, though he found the phone to be completely blank. No contacts, no numbers, nothing. His heart still pounding, McCree flipped the phone down and put it into his pocket with the other device before quickly joining Gabriel outside, though not in the best mood.

"You wanna tell me what's really fucking going on here, or am I gonna have to beat your ass to get the truth?"

Gabriel looked up, those deep and dark holes doing little to hide the angry stare that he was giving McCree.

"First off, nice for you to finally get the lead out of your boots. Secondly, the hell is your issue?"

"Yeah, real cute Gabe. Gonna keep me in the dark, just like old times huh? Another one of your wonderful plans? Oh wait, you don't make the plans anymore, do you?"

Gabriel's body tensed up as he began to growl, fists clenching as he took a few steps to meet McCree chest to chest, the two of them staring each other down.

"Have you lost your damned mind boy? You think I want to even be here? It was either you get brought into this little rescue mission OR Moira got to have her fun with you. It's been a few years and trust me, she's gotten WAY fucking better at getting what she wants from someone."

McCree snarled as he brought up the small phone from his pocket, waving it in Gabriel's face. Noting this new addition, Gabriel brought himself off of their little engagement.

"What, are you trying to impress me with your lack of updated tech?"

"Isn't mine jackass. It was in the drawer beside my bed. I've never seen the thing before now, but guess who just called me on it?"

Gabriel didn't respond, the blank mask doing little to help show if he was thinking or just plain ignoring the connections.

"Sombra. She said your name Gabe. I didn't get much else, connection was too shitty or something. Though would you like to tell me where our favorite spider is at this moment?"

Gabriel stood quiet for a few seconds, before conceding with a growl.

"You're losing your mind Jesse."

McCree squinted and snarled as he closed the gap between them once again, pushing his face close to that bone mask.

"Come again?"

"You heard me, I didn't stutter."

"Since when were you a psychologist?"

"Since the moment you waved a piece of scrap in my face and told me it was functional. You're either still drunk, or you're making shit up. We haven't seen or heard from Sombra in this long and it just so happens that the day, hour and minute we come and find your washed up ass, she just happens to call you on some phone you've never seen before?"

McCree swallowed hard as the sound argument slapped him cold in the face, biting his tongue as he tried to think of a response though being cut off by Gabriel.

"Honestly at this point, I'm assuming she's dead. We only brought you along because she made sure to let us know how close you two got before she dipped again. Though I'm not surprised at how easy it was for her to get to you. You always were a little too much heart."

Gabe's voice barely ended before a fist flew at him in violent anger. The punch was caught though, the moment of rage passing as McCree shook in place.

"You only ever had a few tricks Jesse. Say what you will about me, but don't think that you're any different."

Gabriel threw the fist away before turning and starting to walk off towards a nearby vehicle that would be their personal escort for the time being.

"Hurry up, we're on the clock now."

McCree clenched his jaw as he looked over the broken down phone in his palm, part of him wanting to crush the thing but finding himself unable to do so. Swallowing down the overwhelming flood of emotion that was caught in his throat, McCree put the phone back into his pocket. As he made his way after Gabe, McCree decided then and there that no matter what happened, whether he came back with Sombra or not...

He was done with this life.


End file.
